


If Not Here, Then Versailles

by daddychilton



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: M/M, halt and catch fire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddychilton/pseuds/daddychilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is pre-Halt and Catch Fire with Joe and Simon back in their "humping all over Europe" days, specifically taking place in France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Not Here, Then Versailles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XxIrisxX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxIrisxX/gifts).



> I may add on to this sometime, I haven't decided yet.  
> Also, XxIrisxX I'm sorry this took so long!!!

Joe’s French wasn’t as bad as Simon thought it would be.

“ _Que penses-tu_?” Joe asked, handling a silvery ascot that would’ve looked gaudy anywhere but Paris. It was 1976, some years before the Giant would make its way into Joe, Gordon and Cameron’s life, and Joe was happy.

“ _C’est beau_ ,” Simon said, putting one arm around Joe’s broad shoulder. They were both tall men, but Joe stood about two inches taller than Simon when he was standing straight up. That two inches made all of the difference.

Joe bought the ascot, and the headed down the Champs-Elysées.

*

They took a couple of trains and found themselves at Sacré Cœur. They got tickets that let them into the catacombs below. It was cool in here, and they were the only ones down there aside from one young couple that had already sprung for the winding stairway to the dome.

Simon took Joe’s head in his hands and leaned his head up those two inches to meet Joe’s lips in a firm, fiery embrace. Their lips parted, and their tongues danced, and at that moment they didn’t care if anyone saw them. Of course, if anyone was open to sexual expression, it was the French.

They stood before an altar of some saint – which one, they did not know. Neither was religious, but Joe, being the man who he was, broke from the kiss and smiled at the altar.

“Look at us,” he said, his deep voice hoarse. He pulled Simon close, nipping at his jaw and neck and earlobes. Lustful, as always, Simon thought, though his mind was haggard—half his blood had traveled down south.

Joe started to undo the button to Simon’s jeans, but Simon pulled away.

“We really can’t do that here,” he said.

Joe looked at him, mouth slightly agape, and said, “If not here, can we at least try Versailles?”

*

Simon and Joe walked hand in hand through the gardens of Versailles. The inside didn’t interest them as much as Marie Antoinette’s property at the back of the gardens. It was a cool day in May, the temperature never rising higher than 60F, and Joe was wearing his new ascot beneath a light jacket. Simon had on a black blazer.

The trees rippled with wind, and for a moment each thought they could get lost in here, that the public would never find them if they just stayed in the gardens. Perhaps in that grove, perhaps behind the pond, perhaps as a statue.

The gravel crunched beneath their feet, some of the pebbles getting trapped in Joe’s shoes, and, on one occasion, they actually had to stop at a bench to shake them out. Neither of them spoke much; they were too lost in the beauty of Versailles.

There were a lot of tourists there, but somehow, many of them hadn’t found their way onto the grounds yet. Still inside looking at room after similar room until they all blurred together in the Hall of Mirrors.

Before we leave, Joe thought, I have to kiss him in the _La Grand Galerie_.

In Marie Antoinette’s former sanctuary, they found privacy under a trellis covered in vines. Joe cupped Simon’s head, and pulled him into a tender kiss that made Simon weak at the knees.

He wanted to say, “I’m in love with you, Joe,” but he didn’t know how Joe would react. Hell, he hardly ever knew how Joe would react to anything.

This moment, he thought, is too special to sully with his moodiness. Later. I’ll tell him later.

When Joe let go, he heard Simon’s satisfied sigh. He took the ascot off and tied it around Simon’s neck, smiling as he did so.

“It looks better on you than it does me,” he said with a chuckle.

He took Joe’s hand and said, “Everything looks better on me. One day you’ll realize that.”

“ _Voulez-vous coucher avec moi_?” Joe asked, smiling.

“ _Oui, oui, mon cher_ ,” Simon said, almost in a whisper, before kissing him again.

When they parted, they both laughed and continued their walk, never thinking of anything other than each other.

*

Before they left, Joe got his kiss in the Hall of Mirrors.

 

 


End file.
